Never Saw It Coming
by Merpenstein
Summary: Dreams. Tragedy. And everything that follows both.


Penelope Kaser was twenty-five and working as a waitress. She hated her job, which made her hate her own existence. The only thing that kept her going, besides her younger sister, was music. She almost prided herself on listening to and becoming a fan of underground bands that no one has ever heard of yet. On her way to work, she was listening to her favorite band-that-no one-has-heard-of. The only way to get prepared for her mind-numbingly mundane job was to listen to angry music.

"Pen, you have a table of six waiting on you!" "Okay, I'm on it!" _Christ, I can't even have two minutes for a smoke break today apparently. _Walking over, she gets out her order pad, knowing they've had plenty of time to look over the menu. "Hi, I'm Penelope, what can I ge—" She stopped mid-word, realizing who was sitting at the table in front of her. "Uhmm, sorry, I just…I listened to you guys on my way here today," she laughs, hoping she doesn't seem crazy to them. _I'm not another crazy fan, I swear._ "Oh, right on! We love meeting fans!" the singer said with a big smile on his face. "Well, anyway, what'll you guys be having today?"

Penelope had been so busy with other tables, she had almost forgotten they were in the restaurant. She went over, hoping they hadn't left yet. "Hey, guys, sorry I haven't checked up on you. We are extremely busy today for some reason. Surely Satan's doing," she laughed. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for stopping in and wish you good luck with your music." "Actually, Penelope, we were waiting for you. We wanted to ask you something. The reason we are in Chicago is we are shooting a music video...like, a real one, with a real budget," he laughed, knowing she will understand, having surely seen their videos shot in their backyard. "Anyway, we were talking about some ideas for the video..." _Oh my god, are they going to ask me to choose between ideas? How awesome! _"...and we have finally decided on one. ...why do you look so disappointed?" Not realizing her expression had changed, she had to tell the truth at the risk of sounding silly, "Oh, I just thought maybe you were going to ask me to choose from the ideas you guys had come up with. Now I'm not sure how this will have to do with me." "Well, we were going to ask if you would like to be in it, actually," he said with a smile. "What? Are you serious? Of course I would!" "Great! Here, be at this address next Monday around noon," he said as he scribbled something on his unused napkin. "I'll be there! Have a great day, you guys," she was so ecstatic, she practically ran to the break room to call her sister. _Ugh, voicemail, really Jess?_ _Wait, it is only one, she is still in school._ "Jess, hey, it's me, look ,come to my apartment tonight around seven if you can…I have some crazy awesome news!"

Finally home, she took a shower and changed. She sat on the couch contemplating what had happened that day. Wanting to call her mom and tell her, she grabbed her phone. Before pressing 'send,' she thought about it a little more. _Jess will be here soon and she could just pass it on to mom. Last time we talked, she wasn't well and I don't want a repeat of that._

There was a knock on her door. _It's about time, Jess._ Opening the door, she can see the expectant and slightly confused look on her sister's face. "What's up, Pen?" "You know who my favorite band is, right?" "Yeah, probably everyone on the planet does, as much as you spout about their talent." "I'm going to ignore that for now. They were at the restaurant today and I waited on them..." "Oooooh, we should go call the news station!" "Would you shut up?" "I'm sorry, you know I'm only kidding. So what happened?" "They asked me to be in their first real music video!" "Seriously? That's great! I'm so excited for you! When does it start?" "We start shooking on monday," she could barely contain her excitement.

Monday came sooner than she had anticipated and she grew nervous driving to the address written on the napkin. Her nerves skyrocketed when she pulled into an empty lot surrounding a rundown, creepy-looking warehouse. _Great, I'm going to die today._ Slowly, she got out of her car and began the walk across the gravel lot to the door._ If I'm dying today, I'm having a cigarette first_, she thought as she lit a cigarette. "Filthy habit," she heard the voice from her left. "Yeah, well, we're all going to die someday." _Wow, who gets the pepsi logo tattooed on their arm? _The man chuckled at her as he walked in the door. _Who the fuck is that guy? _

Walking in, she quickly found KC, the singer, to let him know she had made it. "Ah, Penelope, so glad you're here! Would you like to meet your 'co-star'?" "Yeah, of course!" "Well, this is Phil," he said as he gestured toward a man with a certain soft drink logo tattooed on his shoulder. "Ah man, not the anti-smoking guy, c'mon," she whined. KC just looked at her for a second and that's all it took for her to realize how she had sounded. She looked apologetically at Phil, "Sorry, it's nice to officially meet you and I hope you don't think I'm weird or rude and yeahokaybye," she scurried away before she could make a bigger fool of herself.

Everyone had finally gathered to discuss the direction the video would take. "We're going to be slightly cliche with this one actually, but it fits the song very well," the director began. "Penelope and Phil, you are a couple that is trying to hold your relationship together. At this point, all you two do is fight, even about the most meaningless things. In the end, you'll make up and yay, happily ever after." _So just like every corny movie ever? I think I can manage to not fuck this one up._

"Alright, we're going to start with the 'fight' scenes for today, tomorrow will be the day we shoot the filler stuff, and Wednesday will be the band's day. I really hate to have to cram everything together, but we could only get this space for a few days." "Really? It's just an abandoned warehouse, there are about a million of them around this city," Phil piped up. _Well, at least he's funny_. "Yeah, and I mean with only having a few days, you'll only be needing Phil and myself for a couple days?" Penelope was hoping she had the chance to be away from work, and life in general, for much longer than two days. "Well, we'll see how things go; we may need you two for more than we anticipate and we could always do some extra filler shooting around the city."

The first scene was one in which Penelope and Phil were to fight which would turn into making up.

_No way I'm wearing that_, she thought as she looked at the outfit they had laid out for her to change into. A tight, black tank top and a very short, white skirt. "That won't even cover my ass," she told the wardrobe assistant. "Yeah, but who would ever want to cover up an ass like yours?" She winked before leaving Penelope to change. _Well then. _

She was extremely self-conscious as she slid out of the dressing room to go back to the main room. She had stopped for a second to adjust the ungodly short skirt when she felt eyes on her. "See, you look fantastic," the wardrobe assistant said as she walked past her, pinching her ass on the way. "Umm, thanks, heh.."_ If she keeps doing things like that..._ She let her mind wander for a minute. "Pen! You ready?" She jumped at KC's voice. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just distracted by how ridiculously short this skirt is." "You look great, come on!"

She walked in and saw Phil waiting for her. _Damn, he cleans up well_, she felt herself blush as she looked at him. "Alright, I'm gonna have you guys start about here...you'll argue, push each other around, and then, phil, you'll push her onto the couch and get on top of her," the director's voice pulled her back to reality. "Sounds simple enough," Phil replied.

The physical exchange they had solidified a theory Penelope had about herself: she very much liked physicality in a sexual sense. She thought about this for the short time she laid on the couch waiting for Phil to get back with the director. _Why did he only take Phil to talk to? Are the planning something? Oh, god._ Phil finally came back and resumed his position on top of her. "Are you ready?" He asked with a sideways smirk. _Stop being so damn attractive!_ "I'm always ready ...wait, that sounds horrible, umm-" "I'll forget it ever happened," he laughed at her. "Ready when you guys are," the director interrupted. "Oh yeah, we're shooting a video," Phil laughed.

The more they kissed, the more passionate the kisses became. Penelope could barely contain herself, his kisses were so perfect. They were a mix of roughness and passion that made her heart rate excel.

"Whoa, guys! Hold up, we're not here to shoot a porno," the director yelled. Confused, she looked at Phil, who had that stupid, sexy smirk on his face again. It was then that she realized her hands were partway down the front of his pants. She quickly pulled them out, "oh my god! How enbarrassing! I'm sorry!" She shrunk into the couch and covered her face. _Jesus Christ, Penelope!_ "Nothing to be embarrassed about; most women can't handle my sexiness," Phil quipped, trying to make her feel better about the situation. "Whatever," she replied as he leaned down closer. "To be perfectly honest, I had a hell of a time keeping my hands on this side of your skirt," he whispered.

"It was really nice of them to get us a room. I was expecting to just sleep on the floor of the warehouse," Penelope joked in the elevator on their way to their floor. "Well, that couch was pretty damn comfy." She could do nothing but blush as she thought back on the day's events. "Well, here we are," Phil said as they approached their room, "ready to see what kinda digs we got?" "More like ready to pass the hell out," she felt like doing nothing more for the rest of her life, she was so exhausted.

A laugh of irony escaped her lips as the door opened and they stood looking at one bed. "Well, I hope you don't thrash around in your sleep," Phil seemed fine with sleeping in the same bed.

"I don't, luckily." Penelope didn't know how to feel about the situation. They were both sitting on the end of the bed when she decided to start some conversation. "So, Phil, tell me a little about yourself."

"You really wanna know my life story?"

"Well, I'd like to know more about you than you have a hatred for smoking and you have the Pepsi logo tattooed on your shoulder," she teased.

He laughed, glanced down at his tattoo, and sighed. "I don't...I really don't feel like boring you."

"I wanna know about you though, you won't bore me," she was completely sincere.

"Well, my childhood was pretty shitty. Neither of my parents were around; too busy with their mouths around bottles or their noses in dope. That's why I vowed, a very long time ago, to be completely substance free. I never wanted to be like them; I knew what I thought of them and I never wanted anyone to think that way about me. I basically lived in my best friend's parents' house. And then -" he smiled for the first time since he began, "and then I started wrestling. Some of my buddies and I built a makeshift ring in the backyard and we actually got a lot of people to come watch us. I never thought back then that I'd be able to actually make a career out of wrestling."

"So you still wrestle?"

He just looked at her. It was really hard for him to come by people - especially women - who don't recognize him. He chuckled and extended his right hand, "hi, I'm CM Punk, WWE superstar."

She laughed, "I'm...I'm sorry, I've never watched wrestling before."

"Please don't be sorry. I haven't been able to have a genuine conversation with anyone in five years." He sighed. She could tell he really meant that and she felt sorry for him.

"Anyway," he finally broke the silence, "it's your turn."

"Ha, you don't want to hear about a nobody like me."

"Oh yes, I do, come on."

She sighed, "well let's see, my father bailed on us when my mom got pregnant with me, so it has just been us and my little sister, Jessica. My mom has schizophrenia, which can be really hard to deal with sometimes. My little sister is the oly reason I'm still here, along with music. I'm not famous. I work as a waitress and I hate every second of it." She paused, debating whether or not she wanted to ramble on. _He asked, didn't he?_

"Whatever you're thinking about saying, say it."

She was surprised he read the apprehension on her face. "Many mornings, I'm sad I wake up. I've self-harmed since I was 12 and I'm fairly suicidal. I'm...pretty fucked up, actually," she let out a nervous laugh and looked up at him.

He had a look of admiration in his eyes, "you're perfect." He leaned over and she was still in shock when their lips touched.

Everything in that moment was hazy. She could vaguely feel his lips on hers, she felt like she was in a parallel universe. One in which she felt a fleeting sense of happiness and contentedness. When the ringing phone broke the moment, she knew right then and there that she would be willing to do anything to feel that fleeting sense of happiness again.

Phil reluctantly pulled away and looked at his phone, "they have the best timing," he joked as he answered the call. "Hey, you have the best timing, man. ...no, I told you, and them for that matter, that I would probably be gone for a couple of weeks. That doesn't mean I'm gone for however long creative feels I 'can' be. ...no, I have things to do and I'm part of other things that are also important to me. ...oh my god, yes, wrestling is the most important thing in my life; don't you dare threaten my career, asshole, you practically work for me. ...yeah, you tell them they can make up whatever stupid story if they must, but I won't be back for at least two weeks. Yeah, bye." He was shaking his head as he threw his phone on the bedside table and looked at her, "Sorry, people don't listen to me apparently."

"It happens, but you can only tell someone something so many times before it's probably time you start telling other people."

"You're right, I should just go straight to Creative myself."

"Creative?"

"The storyline writers. They come up with how we introduce and continue feuds and really any out of ring gimmicks."

"Oh, I get it. So it should be interesting to see why you're MIA for two weeks."

"I swear, if I 'have the flu' again, I'm going to be fucked if I ever ACTUALLY come down with any illnesses." They chuckled, somewhat awkwardly, neither of them knowing how to go about things after the kiss. Penelope decided to just let it go for now. She wasn't about to get crazy about some guy who made her feel the slightest bit of contentedness for the first time since she was nine. _Shit._ She let a yawn overcome her and took it as a sign, "Well, I'm extremely tired so I'm going to lay down. You're more than welcome to watch some TV or...whatever you do at night, I don't know."

He laughed softly at her trying to be considerate, "I actually don't really sleep. I suffer from near-chronic insomnia. So I think I'll just move that lamp over there and read some comics I brought with me."

"What a dork," she teased him as he moved the lamp that was on the bedside table to the table sitting in front of the window.

"Hey, don't knock the comics, I will take you down, little girl."

She squinted her eyes at him as she tried to give him a menacing face, but quickly gave up, laughing instead, "Okay, old man, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Penelope."

She woke up and reflexively snuggled into the warmth next to her. She felt an arm sneak around her waist and pull her even closer. "Well, good morning," she could hear the smile in his voice and realized, while this may not be the most appropriate thing right now, she could wake up like this every day and be perfectly content. There's that word again: content. That single word hasn't crossed her mind in so many years, this was a foreign feeling for her.

"Hi, sorry, I couldn't help but snuggle closer to the warnth in my sleepy state," she tried to sound convincing that she didn't know exactly what she was doing.

"And who am I to deny you the warnth?" They both knew the other was smiling.

"I'm going to just throw it out the window, okay?" she asked jokingly as his phone began to ring again.

"I may as fucking well, really." he responded as he answered.

She lay there, wondering what it must be like to be such a well-known person like him. What it would be like to be unable to walk around in your hometown without a hat or hoodie to cover yourself. She thought about what he said the night before - how he hadn't been able to have an actual conversation with anyone outside of wrestling in like five years. _I would go insane, not being left alone, nope, no thanks._

He ripped her from her thoughts with his yelling, "I ALREADY SAID I DON'T CARE WHAT THEY SAY!" He abruptly hung up and threw the phone on the floor. "Wow, I don't even know about our creative department sometimes."

"Are they having issues coming up with a story for your absence?"

"I guess so. I mean, I guess someone suggested that maybe I met someone and I'm away with her for a while. Which I don't see a problem with, it's whatever. But Stephanie, the woman who has to approve everything doesn't like that angle."

"Well...okay, one, why not? And two, why doesn't she just come up with something herself then if it's that big of a deal?"

"Because the fans like my gimmick with AJ, one of the divas. So if I'm 'away with someone else,' that will all go to shit."

"Ah, well, ya gotta keep the fans happy I guess."

The shrill of the phone entered the room once again. "Nope, not answering," he said as he sat with his arms crossed; he would have looked like a little kid if he pouted a little.

Penelope laughed at his composure, "Would you like me to?"

"I wouldn't put you through having to talk to whoever is calling, no."

They heard a knock on the door, "What, did they find me? Christ." He got up to answwer the door and Penelope got her first look at his nearly naked body. She wanted nothing more than to go through and trace every single one of the tattoos that cover his body. _Maybe I'll get the chance someday_.

KC walked in behind Phil with a quizical look on his face. "You know, I didn't set out in life to be a match-maker, but I think it fits." Penelope laughed nervously as Phil just smirked, pulling on jeans.

"Y'all ready for the day then?"

Penelope was actually excited for today, "Today is the day we get to just walk around with a handheld camera right?"

"Yep, should be fun for you guys. Meanwhile, the guys and I will be doing our shoot in the warehouse."

"Wait, I thought you were doing that tomorrow?"

"We were, but our time constraints got even worse so we basically have to finish everything today. It really sucks. We should have looked around more before just working with this guy. He doesn't seem to care nearly as much as he should."

KC left, leaving a handheld camera behind, trusting the two of them to "not make porn with it, please."

"Well, I'm going to take a quick shower," Phil said as he walked over toward the bathroom.

Penelope, admiring his tattoos once again, didn't notice him just looking at her.

"Umm, yes, cool, okay?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Maybe you should get some more rest," he laughed a little.

"No, I'm fine, I was just looking at your tattoos is all."

"Maybe I can explain a few of them to you sometime, but right now we should probably get going."

"Yeah, I suppose," she said as she fell back into a laying position on the bed. She smiled up at him as he walked over to her.

"You're trying to get me to lay down again aren't you?"

"No ...but if I was, would it be working?"

He shook his head, smiled, and walked away to finally take that shower.

After just talking about how Phil can't really go anywhere in Chicago without people recognizing him, they decided to go to a more discreet park, and then in the early morning they would go to navy pier. The park they ended up at was nice and deserted. There was just one old lady sitting on a bench by the creek, feeding some ducks. "Well, this was definitely a good choice," Penelope was in a weird mood. She wanted to just goof around and have fun, which was luckily exactly what they were supposed to be doing. After an afternoon of being weird together, they went back to their room. "Wanna watch some movies?" Phil asked her, hoping she wasn't too tired.

"Yeah, what have you got? We could probably just stay up until the morning and then go to the pier. I'm not tired at all and I don't think you ever sleep," she laughed.

"Well, all I brought with me are old, horror movies."

"That sounds perfect, actually. Do you want some popcorn? Pretty sure I saw some in the vending machine down the hall."

"Well, you can't have movies without popcorn now can you?"

"Nope! I'll be back in a few." As she walked down to the vending machine, she was wondering how the night would go. _There's no way he is single. He did kiss me though. It was just an in-the-moment thing. Had to have been_.

When she got back to their room, she threw the popcorn in the microwave and walked around the corner to get pajamas out of her bag. She noticed Phil was sitting in the middle of the bad in nothing but his boxers.

"Well, make yourself comfy," she joked, inwardly freaking out. _You don't just sit around in your underwear with someone you just met, what the fuck? _

"Oh, I already did," he gave her that damn smirk again.

"Ha, ha," she fake laughed as she walked into the bathroom to change. As she was changing, she heard the microwave go off and Phil get up to retrieve it. _Shit, should I wait to see where he sits or go sit down and awkwardly wait for him to do the same?_ She decided to just go sit on her side of the bed, and see what he decides to do. She got under the blanket, it being so cold in their room.

"So, Night of the Living Dead or Psycho?"

"I haven't seen either of them, so you can pick."

"What, how have you not seen either of them? They're classics!"

"I don't have a lot of free time?...I don't know, okay?"

"That's alright, we can just watch both of them if we're going to be up all night."

"Good point."

She woke up with her head on his chest and his arms around her. She shifted, which caused him to wake up, "Sorry," she couldn't hide the fact that she was blushing. He looked at the time and realized they wouldn't be going to the pier afterall today. "Well, I guess we kind of have ourselves a free day," he chuckled.

"Oops," she smiled as she laid her head back down.

"I want to take you somewhere," the statement surprised her.

"Oh really?"

"Would that be alright with you?"

"Of course, I'm already intrigued," she replied as she got out of bed to start getting ready.

"We've been driving forever," she complained.

"We're almost there. ...I promise I mean it this time," he winked at her. In reality, she didn't mind the drive; she needed time to think about what she was feeling. She never knew it was possible to feel this many things at one time.

They pulled into a residential area outside of the city. They stopped at the gate of a fence and Phil started to open it. "Oh, okay, so we're just going to trespass today? That's cool I guess," she was really confused as Phil just chuckled at her.

They walked into the yard and finally came to a stop in the middle. "See that house over there?" he pointed to their left. "That's were I pretty much grew up after I left the home my parents were failing to raise me in. I was so lucky, and still am, to have the friends I do. I mean, who else would have taken in an angry, rebellious seventeen-year-old like me?" She smiled as he reminisced. "And right here," he motioned at the ground in front of them, "is where my friends and I built that makeshift ring I told you about."

She smiled, glad he would want to share something so important with her. "Wow, this is...amazing. I feel somewhat honored you'd bring me here." They fell into an awkward silence, as she was keeping quiet because she was sure he was remembering back to those days.

Her cell phone broke the silence. "Hey, it's me this time," they laughed at the rare occurance. She looked at the screen and saw an unknown number, only recognizing the Chicago area code. "Hello? Yes, this is Penelope Kaser. No, I'm in the city...what are you calling about, exactly? Well, you can't tell me in person for at least another week, so..." Phil was smiling to himself about her attitude towards things. How she is so blunt about things and so eager to just get to the point. He admired that about her.

Then he saw all the color drain from her face.

She abruptly hung up the phone and started walking back the way they came. "Uh, Pen?" he jogged after her, trying to catch up.

"I need to go home."

"Okay..."

"I need to get all my shit and leave. Now."

"Alright, I heard you. Pen, what's going on?"

"Fuck, I won't be home for at least two hours. Do you think I could have my shit sent to me? If I just get a cab from here, it would be quicker. Shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"A cab from here would be way more expensive. Look, I don't know what's going on, but if you need money, I can give you some."

"I don't need your fucking MONEY, Phil," she snapped.

"Hey, fuck you, I'm just trying to be nice!"

"Sorry, thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I need to get all my shit first." She suddenly got very quiet. He wanted so badly to ask what was going on again, but he let it go for the ride back to the hotel. She began angrily throwing her clothes into her suitcase. She was feeling so many emotions that she stood no chance against the tears forming. She fell to the floor in front of the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. He sat down next to her, wanting to scoop her up in his arms, but really not sure if he should. "Pen..." he managed to get out. She looked at him, the epitome of brokenness, sitting next to him. She could see his reaction upon seeing her like this. She could tell he had no idea what to do and he was pained to see her in such anguish.

"My sister is dead. My mother killed her," she stated matter-of-factly, with a dry voice. He stared at her, a mixture of shock, pain, and disbelief on his face. He took her into his arms, not knowing what to say. After a few minutes of the sound of her sobbing filling the room, he asked the question that made her stop crying and stare at him, "Do you want me to go back with you?"

She blinked a few times, making sure she had heard him right. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I care about you." At that statement, she abruptly got up, put the last few things in her suitcase and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out to her car without looking back.

_Who does he think he is? How could my mother do this? How could she take one of my two life sources away from me? How could she? HOW COULD SHE, HOW DARE SHE? And he offered to come with why? Cares about me? The last person to tell me that just killed the only person I loved on this planet. Fuck this traffic. Yeah, go ahead, buddy; fuuuuuuucccccckkkk yyyyooooouuuuuuu alllllllllllll. MOVE IT, SUBURBAN! Okay, Penelope, three more exits and then ten minutes to ...hell, fuck, I'll be walking straight into hell. Shit. Phil, Phil, Phil, why the fuck would you offer to be a part of this?! Shit, focus, last thing I need is to miss my damn exit. Okay, here we go. Coome on, light, turn green already! Obviously Phil just didn't know what else to say to me. I mean, what the fuck DO you say to someone in this situation?..."Hey, sorry your mom went nutso and killed your sister"? Yeah, that would have worked. It's a fucking four-way stop, people. God damn, how did any of you get your licenses? Okayokayokaybreathebreathe...two more houses._

Red and blue. That's all she could see. There were so many cops, she faintly wondered who was out protecting others. She walked up to the caution tape and gave the guarding officer her identification. As he lifted up the tape for her, he warned, "you may want to wait a while before going in."

"Thanks, but it's my fucking house." She stepped over the threshhold and immediately regretted it. She saw her mother thrashing around on a stretcher even though she was tied down. She saw her go almost lifeless as the needle entered her skin. Penelope walked over to her and put her had on her arm.

She looked at the EMT and the head of the stretched and asked flatly, "What's going to happen to her?"

"We're taking her in for a mental evaluation and then she will go to jail and await trial."

Penelope then walked away, for the first time in a week feeling emotionless. Jess was nowhere to be found at this point. She ran outside yelling, "where is she? Jessica, my sister, where is she?!"

**Jessica sat in her roomafter school, waiting to hear from her older sister. I can't even imagine how much fun she's having. This math homework can definitely wait until after dinner. She walk down the stairs, through the living room, and stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. The house was so dark except the overhead light on the stove. She saw her mother standing by the counter, staring at a knife, looking lifeless.**

**"Mom? Mom, what are you doing?" she began walking toward her mother.**

**"Stop right there! I won't give it to you!"**

**"Mom, are you okay? It's just me..."**

**Those were the last words she said to her mother, as Helen charged her with the knife.**

Penelope sat in an interrogation room. She could only assume that's what it was; she had seen plenty on tv. This table actually had handcuffs fixed to it. She found herself imagining the criminals who had sat there before her. And now there's her, her only crime being how fast she drove home from Chicago. She heard a buzzing noise and a man in a suit entered the room. He was carrying a folder, which he placed on the table as he sat down. He turned the folder to face her and opened it. Penelope sat, staring at a family photo they had taken years ago. She stood next to her mother, who was sitting on a chair, with her hand on her shoulder. Jessica, only eight at the time, was sitting on their mother's lap. Penelope remembered that day

"Mom, this is so stupid. Why are you making us do this?"

"Penelope, dear, we don't have any nice pictures of our family."

"Our family? We may as well be strangers, living under the same roof."

She heard her mother sigh. "Just, please, do this one thing for me."

She looked up at the man, saddened by the actions and words of her fifteen-year-old self. "Can you tell me the name of this woman?" he pointed at her mother.

"Helen Kaser, my mother."

"And her?" he pointed at Jessica, smiling widely as the picture was taken.

"...Jessica Kaser, my sister."

"Have you always been aware of the state of your mother's mental health?"

"What? She's schizophrenic, but she goes to therapy twice a week and has been managing it really well lately."

"So, she didn't tell you she stopped going to therapy two months ago? She stopped her medication shortly after that."

"No, she didn't. She wouldn't do that. She knows how much both of them help her. We discussed it before I moved out last year."

She heard a beep and a man over an intercom say, "Jack, she's done."

"Excuse me, Penelope, I will be right back." He left without another word._ How could someone drop a load of bullshit like that and then just leave to let her mind overthink every detail? Don't they know that could be dangerous?_ She laid her head on the table and thought back to the day, two nights before she moved out, when she and her mother had a long talk about her condition

"Listen, mom, if you need me here, I can stay. It's really not a problem. Just don't expect me to join in on any family gatherings."

Her mother laughed, knowing how much Penelope hated family get-togethers. "I promise you, sweetheart, I'm fine. My medication is really helping and my therapist says I'm doing great."

"You'll call me if an episode happens right? Jessica knows how to help you during those and to call me, but I want to talk to you afterwards too."

"Yes, of course, I'll call you. Jessica has learned a lot from you about how to handle me. I'm glad you could tell her about what it's like."

"Well, she's the only one here now, she has to know what she'll have to do. I really hope you're telling the truth about your meds; it took you a while to find one that works for you."

_Did it ever work for her? Why did she just stop taking it? And, if therapy was helping, why did she stop going? _So many questions were running through her mind, she barely had time to breathe. She was startled by the buzzing noise, followed by the man, Jack, walking in once again. "Your mother has just finished her evaluation. She will now go to prison, where she will await trial for murder. You may need to testify."

"What?!" Penelope stood up in anger and pushed the folder onto the floor, photos and papers flying everywhere. "I'm not testifying against my mother! She's not well; she didn't do it on purpose!"

"The truth remains, mentally unstable or not, she killed your sister." Penelope collapsed into the chair, tears endlessly streaming down her face.

"If you would like, you're welcome to stay here in an empty bunk. I know you don't have a place to stay. No telling how long your house will be a crime scene."

"Ha, no thanks, Jack, I'll figure something out on my own." She stood up and walked over to the door. She looked over at the two-way mirror, "Open the fucking door." The door buzzed open and she walked out of the building. Sitting on the curb, she pulled out her phone. 35 new text messages; 15 missed calls. _Oh, Jesus Christ, here we go._She reluctntly opened her phone. _Phil, Phil, Phil, KC, Summer, Phil, Phil. _

She put her phone back in her pocket and stood, beginning the walk to nowhere. She ended up at the same place she always does when life shits on her. The bridge. It's over a small stream and there are flowers everywhere. She found herself wondering if people were planting flowers down here because there was such a variety.

The wind picked up and chilled her to the core. She didn't care how cold she was; she couldn't feel anything. She climbed the railing to sit on it. She watched her feet dangle as she contemplated what she could do right this second. All she would have to do is move forward just an inch...

"Pen!" She glanced back, still feeling numb. It was like her body was just reacting on instinct. She saw his face; he looked...scared to death. She finally spoke, flatly, with no emotion, "Phil."

He leaned over the railing with one side to scoop her up into his arms. The last thought she remembers having was, _he's so warm. _She woke up to the bright, flourescent lights above her. Her stretch was halted by the needle in her hand, hooked up to the IV stand. "Hello, sleeping beauty."

She looked over and was immediately confused. "Phil? What are you doing here? Wait, what am I doing here? What's going on?"

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but just then, a doctor entered the room to ask how she was feeling.

"Uh, just confused I guess."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was standing at the bridge...looking at the flowers...that's all I remember."

"Do you remember why you went to the bridge?"

"If you're asking if I remember that my mother killed my sister, yes I do remember that."

"You don't remember climbing onto the railing?"

"...no? Is that what I did?" The doctor had a puzzled look on his face.

"You were about to jump." She looked over at Phil; he just nodded, looking concerned.

"I...I wouldn't have done that. I wouldn't have even contemplated it."

"Why don't you just get some more rest. With any luck, you be out of here shortly." As he closed the door behind him, she turned to face Phil. "Phil, ...was I really about to jump?"

"I yelled your name. You looked back at me so sluggishly it seemed like you were going in slo-motion. You said my name and turned back to face the water. You were inching forward as I wrapped my arms around you to get you down. You were so cold..."

Tears began to form in her eyes. "Can you just go please?"

"Pen...I want to stay with you."

"And I'm asking you to leave."

Reluctantly, he left the room. He found a chair in the hallway, not far frm her room and sat down, burying his hand in his hands.

_Penelope looked around at the kitchen in the house she grew up duck-shaped cookie jar sat on the counter, filled with her favorite, mom's peanut butter chocolate chip. She opened the lid and reached in to grab one. Immediately, she knew there were no cookies inside; instead, she felt a warm liquid. She pulled out her hand to see it covered in blood. Looking around, everything was red. Everything except a large knife, sitting on the saw her sister standing in the doorway, blood pooling at her feet. Her mother picked up the knife and walked slowly and deliberately toward her..._

Phil and a nurse rushed in at the sound of her cries and screams. Quickly, Phil sat down next to her on the bed and took her into his arms. "Shhhh, Pen, hey, you're okay. It's okay. You'reokayyou'reokayyou'reokay, shhhhhhhhhhhh" She was calmed by his voice and the way he was stroking her hair. She couldn't slow her breathing no matter how hard she tried. She begain to panic. _I'm next. I'm the only one left. _The medicine entered her vein quickly and, soon, she went limp on the bed and fell fast asleep. "She'll be out for a while. I'm going to contact a psychiatrist to get a reccomendation for what step should be taken next. This had a much worse affect on her than she let on."

Penelope rolled over and felt something cool on her cheek. She lifted up her had to see a piece of paper folded in half, ith her name on it.

Penelope, I have to go to New York for a taping of SmackDown. I promise you I will be back; I will help you through this. Until then, you have my number...

_**Phil**_

She pulled out her phone and sent him a message asking why he was going through so much trouble for her; they hadn't spent that much time together. _As if I can just act like there's nothing between us. Surely there won't be for long, there's a new town psycho._ She went through her messages. Everyone seemed so worried. She couldn't help but think they were just being nosy; wanted something new to talk about besides the texts, "I'm fine." "Yes, I'm okay." "I have no idea what's going to happen next." "No, I don't have a place to stay, but I'll figure somthing out." Never one to want to ask for help, she was used to doing everything on her own. No one needed to see her like this. The only person she cared about seeing her like this already has, and he has proven that he is here no matter what...no matter how crazy she may seem.

Tuesday morning arrived and she was so hungry he was thinking about just giving in and eating the horrible food they've been all but shoving down her throat. She was weak, all she did was sleep, trying not to dream. The dreams always prevailed. She could barely turn her head to the sound of the knock on the door.

"Hey you."

She smiled weakly in return.

"I brought you some food; soup from Panera. It's not much, but I know it's a million times better than anything they've been trying to feed you."

Barely audible, she finally spoke, "Thank you, Phil."

He watched her as she slowly ate, worried by her appearance. "Pen, you really need to start eating. I know the food is terrible, but you need it. You look ill."

"Phil, you need to stp sounding like you're my father." They sat awkwardly after that statement, remembering their feelings...and the age difference between them. "So, have you heard anything about my mom? No one will tell me anything; they say it's 'for my own good,' but I just want to know..."

Phil paused a moment and cleared his throat, "Her first court date is in a month. Until then, she's in jail. That's all I know."

Penelope took another spoonful of soup into her mouth and pondered while she slowly tasted and swallowed. "So...are they charging her with murder, even though she's mentally ill?"

"Honestly, Pen, I don't know much."

Just then, as if his ears were burning, Jack walked in the door.

Penelope sighed, "What can I help you with now, detective?"

"Glad to see you're awake. I just have a couple questions for you. ...you were aware of your mother's condition upon your moving out, correct?"

"I knew she was schizophrenic, yes. I also knew she was taking her medication to manage it."

"You left a minor in the care of someone who was not mentally equipped, correct?"

Penelope squinted at the detective, feeling anger rise in her, "I left my sister in my mother's care. My mother, who raised us without a problem, thanks to her medication."

"How often did you check in on them?"

"I talked to Jessica almost every day. She never mentioned any problems. She knew how to handle them if any arose."

"And, when the incident occured, you were in the city?"

"I was, yes. I had an opportunity to spend a week with people I admire very much." She looked at Phil, worried where this conversation was going.

"Uh huh. Well then. That's all I needed. You'll be hearing from me."

"Great. Can't wait," she groaned as he left the room. "Can I go crawl into a hole now?"

Phil chuckled at her sudden turn of emotion; he had missed her silliness. "I already have one started from when I walked out on a taping; there's room for two."

"You what?"

"I...I left early, because I was worried about you. So I left to come back here. A lot of people aren't too happy with me right now."

"...I am. I am so lucky to have someone to care so much about me. And you hardly know me."

"I learned a lot about you. I learned we're pretty similar in our outlook on life. I learned...how incredible you are." He stood up, walked over to the bed, and sat next to her. "You are so incredible, Penelope Kaser," he smiled, almost sheepishly, like he was shy.

She was astonished, "I didn't think I'd ever see you so...vulnerable..." She placed her fingers on his jawline, moved his face to hers, and kissed him deeper than she ever had before.

He was the one to break the kiss. He stood up quickly and took a couple steps back from the bed.

Penelope sat up, embarrassed, "Oh...god, I'm sorry. I'm so stupid! As if you would

ever-"

"No! I would... I do!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath for a second, "Listen, I like you ...a lot. It's just...everything is a little fucked up right now, don't you think?"

"Life is acomplete disaster right now, yes. ...you're right, this is stupid; it's just impossible right now."

The cell phone ringtone she remembered so well echoed through the room. Phil pulled his phone out of his pocket, looked at the screen, and sighed, "I have to go; you know how to reach me."

And with that, he was gone. She was alone, once again. _Better get used to this._ She laid her head on the pillow and was soon asleep; a dreamless night.

She awoke to a silent, dark room. She checked the clock, 3:18a.m. _Hmm, hello silence. Just what I needed...not. Phil left. No one has come to visit. Aside fromthe detective, of course. I have no idea what's going on with mom. Jessica... _She cried herself back to sleep thinking about all the times she had wished she had spent time with her sisiter instead of listening to music, alone, in her apartment. She could hear the nurse and doctor speaking, "We really have no reason to keep her here any longer, she's fine." "The police want her kept here." "Someone else could really use this bed..." The doctor sighed, "I know, but we have to do as we're instructed."

"So, can I leave yet?" The nurse was changing her IV bag, "I'm afraid not, honey."

"I'm fine though. Someone else could actually use this bed, but instead, I'm just taking up space on it."

The nurse squinted her eyes, hearing her earlier words said back to her, "We're trying to get things sorted out as quick as we can."

Penelope sighed as Jack walked in the door, warranting a louder sigh. "Nice to see you, too," he smiled.

"Can you please just tell them I can leave now? I'm not gonna hurt myself, or anyone. Please..."

"We really can't risk you interferring with our investigation."

"What? How...and why would I do that?" "It's plausible to assume you would try to protect your mother at all costs, even interferring with a police investigation."

Penelope was quiet for a few seconds. When she spoke, her words were cold and deliberate, "She killed my sister; she deserves whatever she gets."

Two days later, she was finally allowed to leave the hospital. Jack instructed her to stay out of the public eye as much as possible. She called her aunt, Jenn, to help her arrange her sister's funeral. "I don't know, I guess we could do it tomorrow if we can get everything organized. I just want it to be over."

"I know, sweetie. Come on, we'll go to the funeral home," Jenn had a soothing voice. It let Penelope breathe.

The funeral director was very understanding about wanting to hold the funeral as soon as possible. He showed them a catalog of coffins, but mentioned it would be quicker to choose one in the showroom because it wouldn't have to be shipped.

"You have a showroom of coffins?" Penelope asked, wanting to laugh at the picture in her head; like a car dealership showroom but with coffins, each with a tag with their outstanding features.

She and Jenn looked around for about five minutes, and both stopped at the same one. It was black, the handles shiny silver. The interior material was a deep shade of red. "This one," Penelope was the first to speak.

"Ah, that's a very nice one. And where is the funeral taking place?" He was walking around with a clipboard, as if he was just checking off a list.

"Memorial Gardens. No church, just...right to the point," Penelope looked at Jenn, as if for approval, knowing Jenn would go along with any plan she came up with. It's just how Jenn was; so supportive that she will do just about anything you ask if it's what you want. "Also, no flowers. Nothing fancy. Jess wouldn't want a big fuss about her death."

"Okay, and do you have a Reverend in mind?"

"Reverend Maise. We saw him every Sunday when we were young, against our protests."

"I just need a time and a date and I will call up Reverend Maise and get things all planned out."

"Tomorrow? One in the afternoon. It's usually nicest out around that time."

"You two are welcome to have a seat in my office while I make the call, just to ensure it all works out. I'd hate for you to leave and then have to come back because there is a schedule conflict."

Penelope stared at his desk. There was a photo of his family. He had a wife and two young daughters, looked to be about seven and eight. _What do they think of their daddy's profession? Do they brag about him and ask him to come in on career day at school? Do they, even though they're so young, have a better understanding of death? _The sound of the phone being hung up brought her out of her thoughts. "Alright, we're all set for tomorrow at Memorial Gardens, at one in the afternoon. Do you have any questions?"

Penelope thought for a second. "I don't think so. I mean, we show up, say a few words, and put her in a hole, right?"

The man paused, "Well, that's one way to put it, yes. We like to think it is our farewell party for them. To show them how much we loved them and that they will never be forgotten."

"So should we get balloons and party favors?"

"Penelope..." Jenn knew she couldn't really say anything to her neice. The guy was a whackjob for thinking of a funeral as any type of party.

"Well, at any rate, you're all set for tomorrow. We ask you be there at least two hours prior to the service. You will also have to go to Memorial Gardens today when you have time to pick out her spot. They will have to get it ready for tomorrow."

Penelope stood up and sighed, "see ya then."

The caretaker looked like he should be digging a grave for himself. He moved slowly to the open area Penelope pointed out, "So tomorrow, eh? Well, I hate to do this, but to have something ready that quickly, I have to charge you a little extra."

"It's fine, whatever, just as long as it's ready by one tomorrow," Penelope was starting to get annoyed at everyone and everything.

"Alright, ladies, it will be ready for you tomorrow then."

They walked back to his truck to fill out the paperwork and leave an address for the bill. Penelope wasn't sure she could put a motel room down as an address. "It's okay, just put mine; I'll be helping to pay anyway," Jenn offered.

The ride back to her motel was long and silent. Jenn shut off her car after pulling in, "You know, you can stay with me tonight. ...and for however long you need to."

"Thanks, but I just wanna be alone for a while."

"Sure. Would you like me to pick you up in the morning?"

Penelope considered her other options; taxi, bus, walking... "No, it's okay, I'll just meet you there around eleven."

"Okay, honey, have a good night."

"Yeah, you too."

She got out of the car and slowly walked to her door, listening to the car start up and drive away. She pulled her hood up and walked towards Main street. She looked at the finally-green trees along the way, trying her hardest to appreciate their beauty. _They're just gonna die again in six months. _She opened the gate and entered. She walked all the way to the back, reading each headstone she passed. She stood on the edge, looking down, tears running down her face into the dirt at the bottom. Sitting down at the edge, she let her legs dangle in. It was getting dark and a little chilly. She lay back, looking up at the sky. _Is there really anything up there? Anything after this life? Shit, I hope so; there has to be a reward for going through all this. Jess has to be going to a good place...not just this hole in the ground. _

"Penelope?"

She opened her eyes to see Reverend Maise looking down at her, "oh...hi," she felt a little foolish as she realized she fell asleep partially in her sister's empty grave.

"I know this is hard. Believe me when I say this is not the end for Jessica. She touched the lives of too many people while she was here for this to be the end of her influence."

Penelope smiled at the thought, "I'm surprised you even remember us."

The Reverend smiled as he recalled the last time he saw the two of them at a service, "Well...it has been about seventeen years, but I tend to remember the ones I like."

She chuckled, "I'm not really sure why I stopped going. I guess I lost a little faith in having to see the struggles my mother had to go through..."

"It's okay, Penelope; you've done nothing wrong. Just remember, we would always love to see you on Sunday mornings again."

"Penelope, why aren't you dressed? ...is that what you were wearing yesterday?"

Jenn's voice startled her out of her daydreaming, "Uh, yeah, I kind of...slept here."

"You what? Why didn't you call me?"

"Look I'm fine, everything's fine. Let's just get ready."

The service was short and to the point. A few of Jessica's friends attended and said some nice things about her. As if an entire human being can be summed up in a few words, or a sentence or two. If she started talking about Jessica, she know she would just never stop. She's too important.

Everyone slowly left. "Want a ride back?" Jenn offered, afraid of what Penelope might do.

"No, I'm alright, I'll just walk back. I need the time."

Jenn looked at her sadly, she wanted to help her, but knew there was no way in the world she could help, "Alright, dear, well you call me if you need anything okay? Even just to talk."

"Thanks, Jenn," Penelope quickly glanced at her and then back to Jessica's enclosure. She contemplated getting in with her. To get away from the court rooms she's about to face. To get away from the embarrassment she feeks for letting her feelings for Phil grow into what they are. Most importantly, to get away from the fact that she is now utterly and completely alone.

"Uhh, you have to leave now."

She looked up to see the caretaker with a younger man who looked much more able to be in this profession.

"Uhh, hello? Are you deaf?"

The old man looked angrily at the other and walked over to put a hand on Penelope's shoulder, "You stay as long as you need, okay? You just need to step back a ways. We don't want you to get hurt."

She looked at him, thanking him silently.

"No problem, hun, just scoot on back."

She stepped back as far as she thought was enough and watched the two men put her sister in her grave.

Phil heard nothing but the music laring in his headphones. Running was always sirt if theraoeutic for him, even when it has to be on a treadmill in whatever random city he finds himself in. He didnt see her saunter over, "hey," she smiled warmly. Annoyed, Phil pulled out his headphones and looked at her, about to explain his necessity of personal fucking space and time, when she drew him in. She was wearing the typical gym gear he would see on any female in a gym: sports bra, small shorts that were on the verge of being too tight, and disgustingly pink sneakers. While he would normally scoff at this sight, something about her ...made him want to talk to her. It could have been the fact that she wasn't flipping shit and handing him something to sign. Or maybe it was her shorts fitting just perfectly on her curves.

"Sorry, I had my music on, what did you say?"

"Oh, I just said hey. I actually...forgive me for being so blunt but..." _Here it comes...'aren't you CM Punk?' Let the fangirling enue... _"how the hell can I train to run like you?"

"...I'm sorry...?"

"You've been in here for at least 45 minutes, and havent taken a breather."

Phil laughed lightly, "Oh...that, yeah. Uh, running is kind of my only escape. So once, I start, most of the time I forget I'm even doing it."

"Okay, that's not the real reason I came over to you...though, it is damn impressive."

_Shit._

"I am thinking of opening up a ring. I have a building picked out and everything...I just have to wait to get the money for it. I was wondering..." _Bitch, as awesome as that is, I can't loan you money... _"do you have any tips for me? I know you spent a lot of time on indy circuits. I also know that was quite a while ago, but are there any things you could tell me I should definitely do or not do?"

After a rather lengthy discussion, they went their seperate ways in the gym and began strength training. Phil couldn't help but steal glances at her. If she wasn't already breathtakingly beautiful, her passion for wrestling would have made her so. He noticed she was leaning incorrectly and was really close to fucking up her back. "Hey, stop!" He jogged over to her, "You're gonna murder your back if you keep doing it like that. Here, go like this..." He put a hand on her waist and put the other on the opposite shoulder. He leaned her forward, moving with her. He couldn't stop his mind from playing off the sensations of his fingertips on her smooth skin. She looked back at him and their eyes locked. He let out hot breath on her shoulder, trying to keep himself in check. If he leaned just a little closer, he could gently kiss her shoulder-

They heard the door slam. Penelope was standing there with a look of pure defeat on her face. "Pen," was all Phil could manage before she disappeared the way she had come in. Phil ran after her, "Pen, please stop, please, just let me talk to you!"

Penelope stopped dead in her tracks, not turning around.

Phil slowed as he got closer, "Listen, I don't know what you saw, but..."

She spun around to face him, "I saw reality. It finally hit me in the fucking face. I'm glad it did. Bye, Phil."

As she turned to run away as fast as she could, he grabbed her arm and tried to tell her... _What do I even want to tell her? What can I say? _

"Phil, just let me go. I needed this. I needed to see that you don't think of me like I do of you." The sadness on her face ate at his core, it bored straight into his soul.

"Penelope... ...I'm sorry." The apology was all he could manage. She scoffed, jerked her arm out of his grip, and walked away.

She didn't even know how long she had been running. She was in a new city and couldn't judge by any landmarks. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Come on, Penelope, you're fucking 25 years old and let a guy bring on the lovestruck feelings of a teenager? You're pathetic. _She found herself on a bridge, overlooking the Mississippi River. Even with all the noise of the busy traffic, it was a beautifully calming place. She leaned over the railing. She realized this is something she always does when she is atop anything of decent height. It had to have stemmed from her past struggle with suicidal thoughts. _I could just jump... _She felt someone grab her, "god dammit, Phil! Leave me the fuck alone!" "Come on, just come with me, it'll be okay." She saw the soft face of a woman, felt her hair brush against her face in the breeze. She struggled out of the woman's arms and stood looking at her for a second. It was the girl from the gym.

"Wow, reality, fuck you!" She yelled to no one in particular.

"Hey, listen..."

"I don't wanna hear it, sweetheart!"

"No need to get angry,...Penelope, right?"

"Did he send you to flaunt yourself and make me feel even worse or what the fuck?"

"I don't know if you're, like, his girlfriend or what, but nothing happened."

Penelope scoffed at her. The girl moved closer, wanting to comfort Penelope.

Penelope took a step back, "You can go now."

"Not without you, come on, my car is right over there," she motioned toward a vehicle on the side of the road just before the bridge, with its caution lights blinking. Blink. Blink. Blink. Bli- Penelope hit the concrete hard.

Bright light. Slightly muffled voices.

"She can't wake up in a hospital bed again...just trust me on this."

"They could just treat her here...they wouldn't have to take her anywhere."

"Why are you even still here? I can handle it alone."

"Because I want to be able to explain to this poor girl that I'm not someone to hold a grudge against. I don't need people hating me because of a mistake or an assumption."

"Do you want to fucking befriend her? Just...go, please."

"You're an asshole!"

"He really fucking is," Penelope couldn't get much louder than a whisper.

"Pen!" Phil quickly moved over to her, helped her sit up, and handed her a bottle of water.

They sat alone in the gym. Phil had locked the door and pulled the blinds down so no one would be able to bother them. He looked at her, concerned. She looked ill. Worse than when he last saw her in the hospital. "Penelope..."

She sighed and stopped him, "I'm eating."

"Okay, I just want to make sure you're alright. You passed out for a half hour."

"I'm not used to running like that. Felt good though."

"She found you on a bridge ...you were sitting on the ledge."

"Funny how I always end up on bridges, huh?"

"This isn't really something that should be joked about."

"Just pointing out an odd coincidence."

"Were you thinking about jumping?"

"I wasn't actively thinking about it...more like how easy it would be to do. I'd be free."

"I think you should get some help, Pen. I say this out of love."

She stared at him, "what?"

"I care about you a lot and I want you to get the help you need."

She scoffed at the ridiculous idea, "yeah, I can really feel the caring just spewing out your pores."

It was his turn to sigh, tired of her sarcasm, "I just want to fucking help you."

"Why? You haven't seen me or even attempted to contact me in over a month."

"I've been really busy with the tour."

She glanced over at the machine she saw Phil and the girl at earlier, "yeah, I saw that."

"It really was nothing."

"Sure didn't look like it."

"...wait, why the fuck is this even an issue? It's not like you and I are dating."

She looked at him, his face full of annoyance, and looked down. "You're right." She attempted to get up, but was too light-headed. She looked at him, tears forming in her eyes, "Did none of it mean anything to you?"

He paused before answering, staring at the floor, unable to look her in the eye, "Of course it did," he spoke barely above a whisper.

"Why haven't you called? What's the real reason?"

"Penelope, you're such a great girl and you have so much ahead of you. I don't want to tie you down and make you have to live on the road with me."

"I now have nothing but courtroom after courtroom ahead of me. Maybe if none of this ever happened...with my mom and Jessica...maybe things could be different?"

He looked up at her, tears slowly running down her cheeks. He slowly smiled, never letting it reach his eyes, as he wiped away a tear, "I know it would be."

They heard a loud knck on the door, "Phil! Come on, man, open the fucking door! You can't just hog the gym!" Phil stood up and, as Penelope adjusted herself to look presentable and not broken, opened the door to Jonathan Good.

"Oh, hey, man, if you're..." he glanced past Phil to look at Penelope, "busy, I can come back later."

Phil moved to the side to let him in, "No, it's cool, we were about to leave; come on, Pen."

She slowly stood up and found her voice to respond, "Actually, I think I'll stay here a while and run."

"That's really not a good idea. You just..."

"I'm staying."

Phil's face contorted with worry, knowing this was all his fault,

"Okay, whatever you want...I'll call you later."

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Phil watched her as she stepped onto a treadmill and slowly began jogging and then running.

Penelope walked up to room 119 in the cheapest motel she could find. She sat on the end of the bed and stared at herself in the mirror on the wall. "Now what? Surprising him was supposed to be filled with excitement and happiness. I didn't expect reality to punch me in the gut." She laid down on her back and looked at the ceiling, trying to get her mind to focus on the different possible images in the stucco. Her phone rang, she looked at the screen...Jack. "Hello?"

"Hey, Penelope, I need you to meet with me and go over what you will say at the hearing."

"Uh, I could meet you tomorrow. I have plans for tonight."

"What kind of plans are more important than this?"

"I've only slept three hours in the past four days; I need fucking sleep."

"Alright then, let's meet at Atomic Coffee around noon tomorrow."

"Fine."

"I really do hope you get some sleep; you sound terrible."

"Thanks. Bye." She was not in the mood for his shit.

Penelope walked into the coffee shop, ordered a chai tea, and took a seat at a table in the corner. Staring out the window, she saw him pull into the parking lot. He certainly dressed the part of detective: suit and tie, with dark sunglasses that prevented anyone from seeing his eyes. All he was missing was his cell phone glued to his ear. She watched him walk in and look for her. She didn't feel like making anything easy on him, so she just waited for him to eventually find her. As soon as she saw him acknowledge her and begin walking over, she turned her attention out the window. She wished she was in one of the vehicles speeding past, on her way to the mall or the grocery store or anyfuckingwhere but here.

"I'm glad you decided to meet with me," he said as he slowly sat down. "Listen, I know you don't really want to have anything to do with the trial, but you're very close to everyone involved, don't you agree?"

She took a sip of her tea without looking at him.

"You had mentioned you would like to help the prosecution. Are you still interested?"

She paused for a few seconds, looked at him, and replied coldly, "what do I have to do?"

"First, you will meet with the prosecuter. Good guy, Jordan Wilkes. Anyway, you will talk with him about your knowledge of your mother's condition. It is very important that you tell him everything you know and don't know. When you are on the stand, Jordan will ask you about everything you tell him. The defense will then try to refute your statements. It is very safe to assume they will try to make it seem like you knew your mother stopped taking her medication and going to therapy. This will be easily defended by the fact that you have barely spoken to your mother in the past year or so. The defense is going to want you to put some of the blame on yourself, so your mother will get less time or a lesser charge."

"Won't they just plead insanity?"

"No; that actually doesn't usually work in real life. The defense has to make the jury believe this could have been prevented if you had just tried harder to stay in contact with your mother."

"But Jessica would have told me if anything was off with her and she never did. If she had, I would have intervened."

"You moved out abruptly and left them to take care of themselves..."

"That's why I had a fucking talk with my mother before I left; I made sure she was okay with it. So it wasn't abrupt, that's bullshit."

"That's not what your mother recalls happening. And the defense will certainly roll with that."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Well, I look forward to meeting with the prosecuter and getting as much of this sorted out as I can."

"That's great. Hey, you're going to be fine. No one in their right mind would believe that you helped this along in anyway, or that you had any knowledge of your mother's mental state. You're going to be fine."

"I just want this to all be over. I want to have my life back."

"It's going to take time. I'll set up your meeting with Jordan and give you a call."

"Alright, thanks." She threw her cup in the trash and walked outside into a cool, sunny day.

The receptionist at the desk called out to her as she walked in, heading for the stairs, "Penelope Kaser?"

"...yeah?" _Now what?_

"This came while you were out," she motioned toward a fruit basket on the counter.

Penelope stared at it, "a fucking fruit basket? People actually send those things?"

The receptionist chuckled, "looks like it. Mind if I snag a strawberry?"

"Have at it. You know what, you can have the whole thing. Enjoy." She turned to head back to the stairs.

"Wait, don't you wanna know who it's from?"

Penelope called back without stopping, "nope!"

She kicked off her shoes and sat on the bed. _How can my mother not remember me talking to her, months in advance, about moving out? We had that whole conversation, to make sure she was okay. To make sure I could leave and everything would be okay. Does she really not remember? Or is she just trying to get as much blame off herself as possible? Shit, maybe it is my fault... Maybe..._

Penelope looked at her beautiful sister. She looked so peaceful in her coffin. Her right hand adorning the class ring she had just gotten weeks before. "Jessica...I love you." "No you don't. How could you leave me with her? Youput the knife in her hand," Jessica was looking at her, hurt and angry. "Jess, I didn't. I didn't," Penelope cried. "You're right. You didn't. You didn't take that knife away." The coffin was now falling into the six foot deep hole. "Jess, I didn't know! I didn't know!"

Penelope woke up crying and drenched in sweat. She sat up in the dark room, "I didn't know, Jess, I really didn't know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," she was pulling at her hair. She got up and went to the bathroom sink. The blade she laid there the night she passed out on the bridge was calling to her. She looked at her reflection as she picked it up. "You're pathetic," she made one clean slice into the underside of her forearm. Small droplets of blood slowly rose to the surface; her tears mixed with them quite nicely.

She woke up in a sort of daze. Before going back to bed, she had wrapped her wrist in toilet paper, which was now soaked through. The spot of red on her pillow comforted her in a way. At least she had done something that made her feel an emotion other than self-hate. Funny how harming oneself lessens the self-hate ...for about two seconds. There was a knock on her door. She got up, flipped her pillow over, and quickly put on a sweatshirt in an effort to hide her mark of momentary relief.

She opened the door to see Phil standing there. He didn't say anything at first, he didn't know if she was going to slam the door in his face or not. Penelope stepped to the side, opened the door wider, and let him in.

"Please, just...let me talk," he hoped she was in a listening mood.

She hopped up onto the dresser that held the television, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Okay, so look, I'm an asshole. I know I am one. I embrace it, really. No one fucks with me for too long because I make it clear to everyone that I don't give a shit about anyone but me. ...and you. Penelope, you don't know how hard it was for me to be away from you. I wanted to call you every single night. But I had meetings all the time, and everyone was on my back about leaving SmackDown and being gone and just...being mentally absent also. I couldn't let them think I had lost my passion for wrestling. It's my life. That being said, I have a proposition for you. Come on the road with me."

"...what?"

"You know, go on the tour with me. You'll have VIP access to everything and you'll never have to worry about paying for anything."

"I can't..."

"Penelope, I can't stress how fucking sorry I am..."

"No, Phil, I can't. I want to, but I can't. I...I have to testify against my mother in court."

"They're going with that? That detective guy mentioned it to me and I told him it was a terrible idea. You're too close to the case and the defense would be all over you, trying to make you look guilty somehow."

"Yeah, well, I'm just going to have to deal with that," she awkwardly looked down at her feet as she rubbed them together, "you were really going to take me with?"

"I'd like nothing more," he smiled, seeing he had brought out the tiniest smile on her face.

"Wow, I wish I could, it sounds so great."

"Well, maybe after the trial is done for good?"

She thought for a second, "Yeah...maybe..."

"Well that's convincing," he joked.

She looked up at him, "Sorry, not in a good mood."

He took a step towards her, "Do you wanna talk about it? About everything?"

"I had a dream last night that Jessica blamed me because I moved out. She kept telling me I knew...that I put...the knife in my mother's hand...I just..." she let out a long sigh, trying to hold back tears, "I didn't fucking know."

"Oh, Penelope," he put a hand on her arm, lightly stroking it, "she knows you didn't know. No one knew. And you know what? The way you've talked about Jessica, she would never blame you for anything. Even putting gum in her hair when she was seven."

She laughed, "I actually did that!"

"Wow, what a nice sister you are," he said sarcastically.

"...was. What a nice sister I was," she looked down again.

Phil sighed, "I'm sorry. That was insensitive. Sometimes I swear my head is just full of hot air."

"That's because it fucking is, you asshole," she laughed, so happy he could make her laugh. It made her feel alive for a second. "I don't mean to be rude, but I was actually going to go back to sleep..."

"Uhh, it's one in the afternoon...but okay," he looked a little concerned.

"I didn't sleep well last night..." she absentmindedly rubbed her still-fresh cut.

"Right, of course. Alright, well...you have my number if you wanna talk. I have to leave tomorrow morning, but I promise I will keep in touch as much as possible. It can get hard, being on the road and all, so it may be some 4 a.m. texts, but there will be something, I promise," he squeezed her arm lightly.

"Actually, Phil? Would you mind...would you mind staying? I mean, at least until I fall asleep again?" She looked at him, waiting for him to inevitably say he can't.

"Of course, Pen. Come on," he helped her down and got her into bed. He made sure she had most of the blankets and laid down beside her. He gave her the only comfort he knew how in this situation, and stroked her back until her breathing slowed and became heavier.

Penelope woke to the sound of the door closing. She looked next to her and, upon seeing the empty bed, sighed loudly. _Why did I even hope for more? _She turned onto her other side and saw the note on the pillow.

Pen, so sorry I had to rush out, but it's either that or get fired. I'll call you tonight from the road. Stay strong, little girl.

Phil

She smiled at his use of the first nickname he ever called her. She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked rested for the first time in months. She rubbed the cut on her arm...it was getting itchy; it was beginning to heal. Entertaining the idea of getting something to eat, she changed clothes and started putting on her shoes. She opened the door to leave and was faced with a man in a suit, "Penelope Kaser?"

She looked at him, confused, "Yes?"

He stuck out his hand, "Hi, Miss Kaser, I'm Jordan Wilkes. I believe Jack talked to you about me?"

"Oh, yeah, hi," she shook his hand politely even though she had no idea why that was a type of greeting. _Who wants to touch a strangers hand? _"I thought he would be calling me about a meeting?"

"I thought you might like it better in a place you're comfortable in," he looked inside the small room, "like this."

"To be honest, I was about to go out for lunch. And I would like to go...anywhere else but here for our meeting. I'm sick of this room."

He chuckled slightly, "Alright, no problem. How about three tomorrow afternoon at my office," he reached into his jacket and handed her his business card.

She looked at it for a moment and threw it on the dresser, "Sure, see ya then."

"Have a good day, Miss Kaser."

"Thanks, you too, Mr. Wilkes."

And with that, she continued to a small diner down the street for lunch. She sat in a corner booth, by a window. Anything to distract her mind was good. She had always been like that, never able to just turn off her mind, but it has been much worse lately.

Old country music was playing overhead, the walls were covered in old pictures of what Chicago used to look like. She would have liked it back then; everything was much calmer. There was one of a man in front of his pickup. He looked so proud to own such a vehicle. Scenery was actually visible in the background, not yet demolished by skyscrapers.

"Hi, hun, what can I get you?"

Penelope was brought back to the present time, "umm, can I just get a coffee?"

"Sure thing, sweetie, I'll be right back," she gave a small smile as she walked away.

She heard laughter coming from a few tables away. _Annoying teenagers, great. _They kept glancing at her. "I swear, man, that's her!" "She's too pretty," said one of the clearly vain girls. "Dude, I dare you to ask her!" one guy nudged the other. "No fucking way! She looks like she could kill someone!" "Uh, that's her mom." They preceded to laugh as Penelope shut her eyes tight, wishing she was anywhere else in the world. Just then, the waitress brought her coffee. "Anything else for you, hun?"

"I know this is a weird request, but is there any way you could make the people at that table leave?"

"Are they bothering you?"

"Yeah, they are."

"I'm so sorry about that, I'll get my manager to talk to them and ask them to leave."

Penelope realized this was the first time she let people talking about her bother her this much. She usually is really good at letting things just roll off her shoulders. But this, this was too upsetting. They weren't just talking about her, they were talking about her family. Her now-broken-even-more-than-before family.

She watched as they gathered their things and left the diner, still laughing. She watched the waitresses counting their tips, the cook putting up orders, the manager looking over the schedule for the day. She missed work. She hadn't called to quit, but figured her boss would come to that conclusion once she saw the news. She hated her job, yet, she would give anything to be rushing around that damned restaurant. They always seemed to be short-staffed, but she liked having to rush around. Now, she just waits. Waits to hear from Wilkes, waits to hear from Phil, waits to hear anything about her mother. She was never good at waiting.

She left a good tip and a nice note for her waitress - she knew how uplifting it was to get such notes. Walking out, she checked her phone, one text from Phil and 3 missed calls and a text from her friend Summer.

-Hey, Pen. Have I ever told you how bored I get on the road? Hope you're having a good day.

-Can you please call me? I'm worried sick about you! :(

She decided, as she has for a while now, to ignore Summer. Talking to a good friend about how shitty she feels just doesn't sound like something she'll ever be ready to do. Instead, she replies to Phil

-You never got a chance to mention that. Shame. Don't you have your comic books to keep you company?

-Of course I do, but Punisher has nothing on you. Wish you were here.

She smiled, wishing she could be there too.

-Can we have a movie marathon when I join you?

-Are you kidding? Of course we can! I'm going to introduce you to so many awesome movies!

She laughed at his enthusiasm, then reminisced about the first time they watched a movie together. She had been so nervous ...and now, she would just plop down next to him like they've known each other for years. She had never felt so comfortable around someone before.

-I really can't wait, Phil. I hope this trial bullshit is over soon.

-To be honest, it probably won't be. But you better believe I'll be right here waiting for you. Me and Punisher :)

-Oh golly, he'll wait for me too? How did I get so lucky? *eyeroll*

-Hey, don't throw away his polite gesture like that!

-You're right. I'm sorry, Punisher, I didn't mean it.

-He will forgive you this one time.

-You're such a goon.

-You love it.

She smiled. She did love it. She loved joking around with him all the time. It came easily to the both of them. She walked into her room and threw her phone on the bed as she undressed to take a shower. She let the warm water just run over her for a few minutes. She remembered all the times Jessica would get mad at her for "taking to long in the shower" and smiled. If anyone took too much time on personal hygiene, it was Jessica. Taking her to anything semi-formal was exhausting just from the wait of her getting ready for hours.

"Jessica, come on! I'm sure you looked fine a half hour ago!"

Jessica stepped out of the bathroom, the picture of perfection. She was in a knee-length dress and her hair was perfetly curled. She never needed much make-up; she was naturally stunning. "My hair is being so stupid!"

"Really, Jess, you look great."

"But Jameson is gonna be there and I have to look perfect!"

"You already do! I promise! Mom, come tell her she looks great!"

Their mother walked into the hallway and stared at them, "You look fine, Jessica," with that, she turned around and walked away.

_Maybe I should have gone to make sure mom was alright before we left that night. It wasn't too long before I moved out. But we hd that talk after that night, and she swore up and down she was just fine. How could anyone even attempt to blame me for what happened when she told me it was safe for me to leave? On the other hand, how can I prove we did talk before I left? It'll end up being a case of she-said-she-said. So how is there even trial?_

She was laying on her bed, these thoughts just running through her mind. Feeling a migraine coming on, she laid down to hopefully take a nap.

After two days of barely leaving the comfort of her bed, she was sitting in Jordan Wilkes's office. It was what she expected - expensive, uncomfortable chairs, a large, expensive desk piled with papers and folders, and frame upon frame of diplomas and certificates on the grey walls.

"So, Penelope, shall we start at the very beginning?"

"Sure, Mr. Wilkes, whatever you think is best."

"You can call me Jordan."

"I'd rather not. I don't really want to feel so close to this shit. So close to be on a first name basis with you."

Jordan sighed, "The reality is that you are, in fact, as close to this case as anyone can get. I just want you to feel comfortable."

"That's impossible, Mr. Wilkes."

Jordan looked down at his files and sighed again, "Alright, whatever you want, Penelope. Let's start by going over your childhood."

"Well, my dad left my mom when she got pregnant with me. Eight years later, she got pregnant with my sister. That douche also left us. I don't understand how someone can just leave, knowing they have a child on the way... Anyway, I was seven when my sister was born, so I was really excited to have a little sister. A lot of times, I hear about the first-born being forgotten when a new baby is born, but that wasn't the case. My mother loved to have me help her with Jessica. I'd feed her, distract her while her diaper was being changed, and help her fall asleep. I would never go to bed unless Jessica was sleeping soundly."

"Sounds like you two were very close."

"We were. My mother sometimes worried I would get annoyed by my little sister following me around all the time and always wanting to know what I was doing. I never did. I loved having her around. When I started getting real homework in school, she would sit with me and color or draw as I worked. It was nice."

"Did you always have a good relationship with your mother?"

"Yeah. I mean, obviously, in my teens, I was a bit rebellious, but I would always make sure I showed her I respected her rules. It got a bit hard right before she finally got on her medication. She had some pretty bad episodes, but she would do her best to keep away from us when those happened."

"During these episodes, what usually happened?"

"Umm, well...she would suddenly zone out really bad. When I would shake her and get her attention, she would look at me like she didn't know who I was and would get up and walk away. Her therapist once explained to me that, when that happened, she either didn't realize who I was or saw someone else in my place."

"And how did that make you feel?"

"It was definitely weird. I understand her condition and everything, but it was still weird to think she could look at me and see someone else."

"Were there any particularly bad episodes you can remember?"

"There were a few times," she paused to count in her head, "probably around seven altogether. My mother would yell at one of us about something we did that we didn't do. One time, she yelled at me for taking the last cookie out of the cookie jar. We never had a cookie jar; she was honlding an empty peanut butter container claiming it was a cookie jar. She tried to lash out at me that time. I grabbed Jessica and locked us in my room until mom came knocking later, completely confused as to why we were in there."

"And that happened more than once?"

"That was the only time she attempted to hurt me in any way. All the other times, she would go after Jessica. I talked to her therapist at the time about it and she told me it was likely easier for her to see someone else in Jessica because she was so young. She had seven years with me before she came along."

There was a knock on the door, "Excuse me," Jordan walked over to the door and let in a woman. She had long, blonde hair that was up in a bun. She was wearing a black pencil skirt, a black blouse, and a light pink blazer. She smiled warmly at Penelope as she stuck out her had, "Hello, Penelope; I'm your mother's therapist for the State, Samantha Landon."

Penelope shook her hand and politely said hello, "Is there a seperate one for the defense?"

"Oh, no, sweetie, I'm just working closely with the State."

"Oh, okay," she sat there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

Jordan cleared his throat, "So, it has always been easier for your mother to see someone else in your sister?"

"Yeah. I mean, she didn't have episodes very often after Jessica turned about ten. Not sure what happened. I guess a switch just flipped in her brain?" She looked at Miss Landon for reassurance.

"It's not that a switch flipped. Around the time the episodes started slowing down, was your mother gone more often?"

"Yeah, actually. Most of the time, she would tell me she had to go to the grocery store. But she would never have anything when she got home. ...she was going to therapy, wasn't she?"

"Most likely, yes. And any therapist worth their salt would have prescribed her medication. That's why the episodes slowed down so much."

"That makes sense I guess. Why would she stop taking her medication though?"

"That's what we need to figure out. How often did you talk to your mother after you moved out?"

"Not very often at all, but I made sure to talk to Jessica at least once a day to make sure everything was okay."

"And did you ever go visit?"

"I did a few times, when Jessica had big school functions."

"So, everything kind of revolved around Jessica?"

"Well, no, I mean, maybe? She was a much better student than me and was in a lot of school organizations and functions. She was really busy all the time."

"So, your mom was alone a lot?"

"Yeah, I guess she must have been."

"For schizophrenic patients, it is extremely important that they take their medication. Just a few days of forgetting can trigger episodes. Most likely...we're trying to figure it all out with your mother, but her memory is not the greatest right now...most likely, she forgot for a few days prior to Jessica being killed."

"During the week before her death, Jessica did tell me that mom seemed to just sit in the same spot all day. She would leave for school and come back eight hours later, to find mom in the same place as when she left. She also worried a little because she didn't talk much. I told her not to worry about it because she was never a big talker anyway. She had also seemed a little nervous? Or anxious, maybe? But Jessica didn't worry about that too much considering she rarely was in the same room as our mother. She figured mom was fine the rest of the time."

"Is there anything else you can remember?"

Penelope sat for a minute, trying to recall anything of importance. "There was this one thing..." she adjusted herself on the uncomfortble chair, "it was around two weeks before I moved out. The three of us were at the grocery store. We were in the cereal aisle deciding what to get because we all like different kinds of cereal. This man passed by us and I saw my mother glance at him. When she turned her head around again, she had a strange look on her face. I remember her saying to me, 'Penelope, grab Jessica and follow me. Quickly now, come on!' she rushed us out of the store to the car and she sped home. Once we were in the house, she locked all the doors and walked around checking and making sure all the windows were closed and locked. I went over to her to make sure she was okay. She pushed me aside and mumbled something like, 'the notebook, he's after the notebook, yes, the notebook,' and then she shut herself in her room. She was fine the next morning. We even went to the grocery store again and everything went fine; nothing happened."

"That man was just an ordinary man. Your mother's brain made her see a different, maybe evil, face on him. I believe she stopped her medication just before that incident. It would explain how extreme her condition was when Jessica was killed."

"So she lied to me? I talked to her before I left...she said everything was fine nd her medication was working great..."

"Don't take it personally, dear, she lied to the police and all of us too. She has said she hears voices. Some are nice and help her be a good mother, but most of them are belittling and hateful. They convince her of things that aren't there or aren't real. In this case, she truly believed Jessica was an evil force attempting to hurt her."

"According to the crime scene people, they were standing across the room from each other though..."

"Shadows love to play tricks on the mind. She likely thought Jessica was running toward her to hurt her and she charged back in defense."

"So, won't the jury just see that she is incredibly mentally ill? Can't they just advise she gets help? Long-term help?"

"Normally, yes, but the defense feels very strongly that they can spin this around on you."

"I wasn't even there!"

"Not at the moment of the crime, no. You left your sister in the care of your mother, who you knew was not mentally stable."

"I didn't know that! I talked with her before I moved and she-"

Jordan cut in, "She lied to you, Penelope. Well, her voices did."

"So...I was supposed to just know, somehow, that she was lying? I don't get how they even have a case."

"You never checked in on them. You talked to Jessica and she said everything was fine, but you said yourself, she was rarely home and in the same room with your mother."

Penelope stared at the floor. She was in shock, "This can't be happening. I can't be guilty of my sister's murder..."

"You won't be, once we build our case. We just need to know more about your mother's background. Especially if it pertains to her illness in any way."

"Her mother died when she was really young. She never talked about it, but I found a couple newspaper articles in a box in her closet one time. She and her dad were alone after that and her dad was an alcoholic. He still went to work and provided everyting he could for her, but he wasn't there in an emotional sense. If my mother ever had a problem, she would have to confront it herself with no one there to be on her side. She was always really good at being there for Jessica and I, at not being like her father. Her dad died when she was 15, so she had to be in foster homes for a few years. She told me once that they kept sending her to different houses because the other kids would complain about her being too weird. She never got close with anyone, and made sure she had money saved by the time she was 18 to move out and live on her own."

Miss Landon was writing on a notepad, "Thank you, Penelope, this will help us a lot. I actually have to go meet with your mother," she looked at Jordan, "I'll be in touch." She waslked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Penelope looked at Jordan, "so she is going to talk to my mother?"

"Well, we've been trying to connect with your mother for days, but she seems just...vacant. We're trying to gather memories to get her to talk."

"Oh. Is there anything else you need to talk to me about?"

"I think we've done enough talking for one day, Penelope. Would you be able to meet with me again in a few days?"

Penelope started to get up, eager to get going, "Sure, whatever you need."

Jordan also got up to show her out, "Great, so I will see you Monday afternoon. How is three o'clock?"

Penelope smiled slightly, "Sounds good to me. Bye, Mr. Wilkes," she held the smile as he said goodbye to her. Once she turned around to walk out of the building, her smile immediately fell. _Why can't this just be over? I want to just get away. _She sighed as the doorman let her outside. Soon, she was halfway back to her motel.

Four days later, she was awoken by the sound of her phone ringing. Looking at the clock and realized it was only seven in the morning, she groaned as she picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

It was Jordan. Of course it was Jordan, "The judge decided, after meeting with the defense, to view some of your mothers in-custody therapy sessions with Miss Landon."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Well, the judge decided for himself that she was not fit for trial."

"So...what now?"

"Your mother has a court date for next week. At which, the judge will order her to stay at the psychiatric hospital he thinks would be best, for as long as he deems fit."

"And then she will just...be gone? For years?"

"Yes. Being family, you will be able to visit her during visitor weekends ...if you so choose."

"And if not? This is just...over?"

"After the court date, to which you don't need to be present, yes. She will be referred to the help she so badly needs."

Penelope hung up the phone and stared at it. This whole thing was such a big part of her life for months and now it's just...gone. No longer relevant. She didn't know exactly how to feel. Of course relief washed over her. A little guilt came at the thought of her mother being in a hospital for an unknown number of years. She went back to sleep and, for the first time since Jessica was killed, she did not fear falling asleep; she knew she wouldn't dream.

She called Phil when she woke up again. Of course, he didn't answer, so she left a message, "Hey Phil, I don't know if you heard or not but my mother ...it's over. There's no trial. Please call me."

She got up to take a shower and get dressed, deciding it was finally time to get together with Summer. She had a lot to explain to her old friend.

She walked up to the traditional family home she spent a lot of time in as a kid. Summer's parents often watched the baby if Summer had to go anywhere and Penelope was thankful they agreed to watch him today. She loved that little man, but she just really needed some time with Summer.

Summer met her on the sidewalk leading up to the house, "Hey! I've missed you!" She embraced Penelope in a hug.

"I've missed you too, Sum," she pulled back, "hey, I'm sorry for never calling you back..."

"It's fine. I know you had a lot going on."

Penelope awkwardly looked down at her feet as they started walking around the neighborhood. Summer cleared her throat, "Sooo..."

Penelope looked at her. _I knew this time would come. _"So, you know how my mom has schizophrenia? Well, she had an episode and she killed Jessica."

Summer was quiet; of course she had heard what had happened, "I'm sorry I didn't go to her funeral. I actually intended to and then saw how few people were there. I assumed it was for close family and friends. Jessica and I were never really that close, you know?"

"I understand. It's not like I invited anyone or anything. No amount of familiar faces would have made it any better."

"So, what are you doing now? Like, where are you living?"

"Currently, I'm at the motel on Division and Jefferson. It's not...great, by any means. But it's a place to sleep. When I sleep, that is," she laughed a bit nervously. "And I know you're going to, so I'll just tell you this now: I can't...I won't stay with you. I wouldn't intrude on you or your parents like that."

"Glad to see you can still predict what I'm going to say," Summer laughed remembering all the times when they were younger, all the nights they spent up watching movies and talking about boys.

"So, how's your little boy? I'm sure he has gotten so big since I last saw him," Penelope badly wanted to change the subject; she didn't want to even think about the past.

"He's doing great! I think he's gonna start walking soon! He sure is trying, anyway. It makes me a little sad though. He's just my little baby gubb, ya know?"

"And he always will be," Penelope smiled at her friend. She always knew she would be a great mother.

They were approaching the downtown area. This meant shop windows with magazines in them. Magazines with front page exposes on Penelope's mother. "We can go back and just sit on the porch and talk if you want," Summer had seen her eyes scan across the many covers with her last name on them.

"We can if you want, but really, I'm okay. Now that there isn't going to be a trial, it's all okay and doesn't bother me. I know they will all be gone soon."

"What do you mean there won't be a trial? Is your mom okay?"

"Yes and no. There will be no trial because she's too mentally ill to stand trial. She'll be sent to a psychiatric hospital for a while. Hopefully they'll be able to help her."

"What...happened?"

Penelope took a deep breath. She knew she would be asked this a lot in the future and should just start getting used to it. "I was away in Chicago. My mother had an episode. I guess she thought...she thought Jessica was an evil force coming at her, trying to kill her. She picked up the knife on the counter and headed into battle."

"How could she see someone else in Jessica's place?"

"Schizophrenics often have hallucinations and delusions. My mother had always, in the past, before her medication, thought men were after a notebook she kept with all her childhood memories in it. Jessica was standing in the dark, walking toward the lighted room. Shadows like to trick the mind. The schizophrenic mind is easily influenced. She thought Jessica was going to hurt her to get her notebook. In her mind, she was acting in self-defense."

"I thought she was on medication though...didn't that help? Isn't that why you felt okay moving out?"

Penelope sighed, "She was taking medication, yes. She had stopped a few weeks before I moved out. When I talked to her to make sure it was okay for me to move out, she lied. She said she was fine, but she was the furthest thing from it."

Summer stopped walking and turned toward Penelope, "Pen, I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't change anything or help in any way, but I am so damn sorry."

"Thanks, Sum, I'm glad you're still here for me. We should probably head back huh?"

Summer checked the time on her phone, "Ugh, yeah, we better. We'll have to hang out again soon. Maybe next time we can just sit at the house? Play with gubb?"

Penelope smiled, she loved that little nickname, "I'd like that."

They spent the rest of the walk back to Summer's house sharing childhood memories they had almost forgotten. By the time they reached the house, Penelope's cheeks hurt from laughing so much. She hugged Summer goodbye, "I'll get ahold of you, I promise. And Sum? Thanks so much for today. I really fucking needed it."

"No problem. I'm always here for days like this," she smiled and turned around to ascend the steps to the porch. Penelope watched her walk in, pick up her baby, and spin in a circle with him. She could tell he was giggling at his silly mommy.

A little over a year later, Penelope stood in front of her sister's headstone.

"Hey, Jess. Sorry I haven't bee by much," she glanced around at the mess of flowers and almost involuntarily began organizing them so they looked better. "I've been on the road with Phil. I don't know if you can, like, follow me around and see what I'm doing? I don't know anything about the afterlife. Phil is amazing. His kindness knows no end; we can joke around like lifelong friends. He's really...something special," she smiled. "He actually wanted to come here with me and introduce himself, but he's stuck in some meeting with his boss's boss's boss or something ridiculous like that." She sighed, feeling sad, "Jess, not a day goes by that I don't think about you. I just want you to know that I'm good now. Mom is getting help, and I'm having the time of my life on the road with Phil. I know what you'd probably say to me right now, 'you should really go visit mom.' I just want to enjoy life for a little while okay? Going and visiting her would just bring everything back to the front of my mind and it is now comfortably tucked away in the back." She took a final satifying look at the newly arranged flowers, "I love and miss you so much, Jess, I'll talk to you soon." She turned and slowly left, wishing she could feel Jessica's spirit with her somehow.

Looking down, she saw the little ants of the technician crew setting up the ring. She wondered why she had never been to the Allstate Arena for anything before. It was huge, she couldn't wait to see every seat occupied by a screaming fan. Feeling a hand on her back, she turned to see Phil grinning like an idiot. "I know this is your hometown and everything, but does being here really make you that happy?"

"Well, yes, but that's not why I'm smiling. I may have gotten you a gig!"

She looked down at the center floor of the arena, "What, being a tech ant?"

Phil looked down and chuckled, "No. You know how you are constantly telling me better ways of writing the storylines?"

"Yeah. I mean, some things just don't make sense..."

"Right, well, I got you a meeting with the head of the creative department for a job in writing," he smiled, waiting for her reaction.

"...you what?" She grinned and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. She kissed him deeply, "I can't believe you sometimes," she kissed him again, lingering this time. She wanted more, right here.

He whispered into her ear, "As much as I would love to hear your moans echo through this arena, I really have to get going. I have no clue what I'm even doing tonight."

She smiled, "You mean, besides me?" She gave him a couple quieted moans as a tease. She could feel him harden just a bit.

Sighing, he put her down, "I'll see you in our room after the show. You might wanna rest up a bit," he winked and walked away.

Sitting backstage, she couldn't help but daydream about possibly being part of the creative team. A year ago, she hadn't the slightest idea what this company was about. Now, she loved it. Being on the road is one thing, but being in the guerilla area as the men and women are getting ready to walk out is a whole other, wonderful world. Everyone has their own way of warming up and getting pumped for their match. Most wrestlers spend the last few minutes before their music hits stretching. Currently, Penelope was watching Phil warm up and stretch. Her mind wandered...

"...don't you think?"

Penelope had the faintest realization that someone was talking to her. She turned to see a girl holding a clipboard and wearing a headset. "I'm sorry, what?"

The girl giggled a bit, "Oh, I was just saying he sure looks flexible, don't you think?"

Penelope smirked, knowing exactly how flexible he is, "Yeah, he does..." Most people backstage knew of Penelope's relationship with Phil. To her surprise, everyone was really nice to her and didn't badger her about getting any "special treatment." This girl, however, was new on the team and had no idea who she was talking to. Penelope decided to just let it go once the static of Phil's entrance music hit.

Penelope was laying on their bed in the back of the bus, waiting for Phil to come in. The show had been great tonight. The crowd was unlike any other she had seen on the road so far. Phil's music was barely audible over the crowd's applause.

She heard the door close and slipped off her panties, the only thing she was wearing under the blanket.

Stepping in to the room, Phil smiled seeing Penelope all cozy, the room lit only by the small bedside lamp. "Hey there, beautiful."

She smiled in return, "Hi, handsome. It took you long enough. I've been waiting forever."

He smirked, pulling the blankets back to join her in bed, "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

She turned on her side to face him, wanting to keep the fact that she was naked a secret for as long as possible. Her secret was quickly found out as he placed a hand on her waist.

He pulled the blanket off her to admire her body. She had curves he could trace for days. "Now, why would you hide this beautiful sight from me?"

"I wasn't hiding...just surprising..." she smiled as she intertwined her legs with his.

He slid his had up her stomach and chest, stopping to trace circles around her nipple with his thumb. He loved every inch of her; she was ravishing.

The intense look in his eyes became too much for her and she leaned in to kiss him deeply as she stroked his inner thigh. "Why do you still have clothes on?" She helped him undress, taking time to look over his body. Everything about it got her heart racing. She wondered how any woman could look at him without wandering what it would be like to experience what she's about to. She got on top of him and began kissing and nibbling on his chest. She liked doing this because she could feel him harden with every kiss, every little movement she made.

Once he was inside her, he grabbed onto her hips to feel her movements. He loved being able to look up at her: her head thrown back, her bottom lip bitten, hearing her moans. He had never before been so engrossed in a woman's movements and sounds. With Penelope, he wanted to see every little reaction to every little thing he did. He moved his hand down to rub her clit. He knew it made everything else feel more intense for her.

"Oh, Phil, mmmmm," she moaned. She leaned down to kiss him as hard as she could muster. Her head was beginning to swim; she had never felt the sensations he gave her before. It made her think, "Oh, this is what I've been missing." She picked up her pace at the quickening of his breathing. Knowing she brought the sweat to his forehead, the groans to his lips, was a new kind of high for her.

Before either could climax, Phil flipped them. He leaned over her, occasionally looking down to watch himself enter. He licked and sucked her nipples, knowing how much she enjoyed that.

She ran her hands up his strong arms to feel his shoulder blades as he thrusted. She knew she couldn't leave any marks on him, so she simply pressed her fingertips into his shoulders as hard as possible. Doing this, she was able to push herself down, making him go deeper and deeper. "F-fuck. Oh, that feels so good. Don't stop, don't stop!"

Obeying her pleas, he quickened his movements. He pushed away his own orgasm a couple of times, wanting to join her in going over the edge. He felt her tighten around him, her legs tensing.

As she was about to cum, she gripped his shoulders so hard, she drew blood with her nails. Feeling him release just after her, she looked at him and smiled.

She looked like she had been drugged and Phil couldn't help but think about the fact that it was like he was her drug. No one else could make her feel this way. He lay down beside her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her forehead and looked into her eyes, "Penelope, I love you."

Penelope was shocked at this first, official, saying of the three little words. "I love you too, Phil," she smiled and snuggled into his chest. She faintly wondered where they were on the road before falling asleep.

Before she knew it, she was in Stanford, waiting for her interview. At least the chairs in the lobby were comfortable. Suddenly it hit her, _Stephanie McMahon. _Stephanie McMahon is the head of the creative department. She was minutes away from meeting the owner's daughter and having to impress the crap out of her.

She didn't even have time to panic, the receptionist calling out, "Miss Kaser, she will see you now. Third door on your left."

Penelope got up and tried to wipe the nerves from her face as she walked down the hallway. The door was closed. _Do I knock? Probably, stupid._ She knocked and was told simply to "come on in!"

She had never seen such a fancy office. It was even fancier than Jordan's. She sat at the desk, opposite the most professional-looking woman she had ever seen. Stephanie was picking up papers and files off her desk and desperately trying to find a place to put it all, "Ya know, sometimes, I think I need a bigger desk," she laughed and plopped the pile of papers and folders onto the floor next to her chair, "eh, good enough."

Penelope laughed lightly, "I would have probably just done that in the first place to be honest."

"I thought for a split-second I was a miracle worker and could manage to find a place for all of it," she laughed a little and then sighed. "So, Penelope, who are you?"

Penelope was silent for a beat, a little confused, "Who am I?"

"Yeah, tell me about yourself. I mean, I know you have a relationship with Phil, but what else?"

Penelope wasn't sure how to answer. Was she just testing her? Surely she had heard about her mother; the whole nation knew about it. "Well, umm, I'm just...me? I like music and helping people, and Phil makes fun of me a lot for talking about how certain storylines could be better. ...not that your work is terrible, I just-"

Stephanie stopped her, "Penelope it's fine you think that. It's kind of what we need. I've had the same group of people on my creative team for a while now and I think it would be good to add someone new. Someone with fresh ideas. Tell you what, why don't you sit in on a meeting today and see how you like it?"

"Really? That would be great!"

Stephanie smiled, liking her enthusiasm, "Perfect; we have a meeting at three if you would just meet me in the downstairs lobby."

"Yeah, no problem!"

"Alright, well, I will see you around 2:45 in the lobby," she got up to show Penelope to the door.

"I'll be here," Penelope smiled, walked out of the room, and started downstairs. _Sit in on a meeting? Where is all this luck coming from?_

Phil was relaxing on the couch in the hotel room when Penelope returned, "Sooooo, am I looking at a new creative member?"

Penelope smiled and sat next to him, "Well, maybe, I'm sitting in on a meeting at three! How cool is that?"

Phil smiled at her excitement, "that's really great, honey," he pulled her into his arms. "Just don't be too eager to get rid of me out there," he joked.

"Well, you have had enough time on top I think," she smirked at him.

"You think so? Hmmm, maybe you can be on top next time," he winked at her.

"Ha-ha, you're so funny."

"I know, it's a curse really."

She lightly punched his arm, "Oh, shut up."

"Oww. Jeez." He hugged her closer and kissed her temple.

2:45 on the dot, Penelope was in the lobby of the corporate office, waiting for Stephanie to meet her.


End file.
